Page 11 of Ravaged Saints (BloodHawks Duet #1)

I wake up with my head pounding.

The kind of ache that makes you feel that every movement is a mistake.

I can’t even remember the last time I drank this much—maybe freshman year of college? I’m not the type to drink, not really, but last night…last night, I needed an escape.

I needed the fog, the numbness, just a few hours where everything felt far away.

The past two weeks have been nothing but chaos.

Falling into that trap, the aftermath, all of it—it’s like I’ve been dragged through hell.

Vodka and music felt like the only way to drown it out, even if just for a night.

Only Dante and Ryker were here, and Bryn started going over the guy’s music list, and we just started drinking and dancing, like we both did before the plague, and for a moment it was like life was normal again.

At first, it worked.

I was floating, losing myself in the beat; the burn of alcohol warming me from the inside, but then he showed up. Knox.

The second I saw him, everything shifted.

That messy hair, the dirt-streaked shirt clinging to his chest, those cargo pants and combat boots—and that presence.

He’s a damn wall of a man, towering over everyone with this raw, unshakable energy.

Something inside me snapped, and I wanted to get under his skin, to see if I could make him crack.

God, what was I thinking? Like I had any chance of keeping control.

Who knew a beast army guy could pull moves like that?

I groan and rub my face, staring up at the ceiling.

My door is still locked, so I’m safe for now, not that it matters; there’s no escape from my thoughts, and to help, I need to pee!

My mind drifts to Bryn, and frustration prickles under my skin.

I still don’t get why she did it, why she pulled me away like I couldn’t make my own decisions.

She’s so open about sex, about intimacy, but when it came to me and Knox… suddenly she’s playing guardian angel?

The thing is, she was wrong—Knox was right.

I wasn’t drunk enough to forget, to be unaware.

I knew exactly what I was doing; I wanted him to kiss me, to touch me, and the alcohol didn’t make me reckless.

It just stripped away my hesitation.

When he kissed me, my heart felt like it was trying to break free from my chest.

That kiss… God.

Are all the men here trained to kiss like that? Because Knox didn’t just kiss me.

He consumed me, leaving me melting like chocolate in the sun.

I hear a click at the door, followed by a knock, and my brow furrows waiting for whoever it is to enter, but the door stays shut.

“Yes?”

I call, climbing out of bed slowly, my body still heavy from sleep.

“Can I open the door?”

Ryker’s voice comes through, soft and almost careful.

I chuckle at the tone. Definitely not Knox; he wouldn’t bother knocking. Max and Dante knock, sure, but they never wait for an answer. “Yeah,”

I say, grabbing my clothes. “I really need to use the bathroom.”

When the door opens, Ryker steps in, his dark eyes meeting mine with an easy playfulness that feels… new. There’s a slight smile tugging at his lips, and for a second, it disarms me.

“Good morning,”

he says, a touch of mischief in his tone.

I smile back, rushing past him. “Good morning.”

My words trail off as I run into the bathroom, just in time to avoid peeing myself.

I wash up and dress while Ryker waits outside, calmly looking around. “You’re more patient than the others,”

I say, raising an eyebrow as I tie my shoes.

“I’m also your keeper this morning, so I don’t have much of a choice,”

he teases, giving me a mock bow. “Milady.”

I laugh, shaking my head as we head up the stairs together. The closer we get to the main room, the stronger the smell of pancakes becomes, and my stomach growls; my mouth waters.

As soon as we reach the table, Max slides a plate in front of me—two pancakes topped with blueberries and what looks like honey. “Morning.”

“Thanks,”

I mumble, taking a seat as Ryker sits across from me with his plate.

“So, what are your plans for today, ?”

Max asks; his tone is casual but curious.

I glance at him, chewing thoughtfully. “I was going to keep working on the garden.”

My words trail off as Knox walks into the room. His presence is as overwhelming as ever.

His dark eyes sweep over the table, and for a moment, they linger on me; heat blooms in my cheeks, and I drop my gaze, suddenly very interested in my pancakes.

“Morning,”

Max greets him, his tone easy, unaffected.

“Morning,”

Knox mutters, the sound rough, scraping through the air like gravel. His shoulders roll back, tension clinging to him like a second skin.

“Morning,”

I mumble, barely audible, my courage from last night long gone. The alcohol has left my system, and with it, my boldness. I’m not sure how to act around him now, with the memory of his kiss still fresh, still burning.

Knox doesn’t say anything else, but I can feel his eyes on me as I eat.

I take a deep breath as I finish my pancakes. The weight of the room is pressing down on me. “I was wondering,”

I say, trembling more than I intended. All eyes shift to me, and the words stick in my throat. “If I could go with Ryker near the river. There are plants and flowers… good for teas, medicinal.”

The silence stretches as I lift my gaze, meeting Knox’s stare. He’s stopped eating, fork frozen mid-air, his eyes locked on mine, and I can feel my cheeks burning under the intensity of his gaze.

“Or maybe not,”

I mumble, standing quickly to clear my plate, wishing the floor would swallow me whole.

“Not with Ryker,”

Knox says, his tone sharp enough to slice through the air. “I’ll take you.”

I turn around to look at him. My pulse is deafening in my ears as panic tightens in my chest. Not Knox, anyone but him.

“I’ll tag along if you don’t mind,”

Dante’s calls from the living room as he steps into view, hair tousled; his black shirt stretched over his broad chest and muscular arms. He’s smirking, his eyes full of amusement.

“Sure,”

Knox replies, rising from his chair with an unsettling calm. “Let’s go, .”

He gestures toward the door, where Dante waits with a rifle slung casually in one hand.

“Expecting trouble?”

I ask, eyeing the weapon.

“Always.”

Knox shrugs as he grabs his own rifle from a locker near the door.

“Maybe I should have one too,”

I say, casually.

“Not a chance in hell, pet.”

Knox barks, and I chuckle, hearing his grunt behind me.

We leave the base. The cool air hits my face like a slap; I trail behind Knox. My steps are slower while Dante walks beside me. His presence is a strange comfort.

“You okay?”

Dante asks, amusement flickering in his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s barely holding back a smirk. I know exactly what he’s referring to—last night.

I could pretend not to remember, but it wouldn’t be fair to Knox, not after what Bryn accused him of. “Kind of,”

I murmur, keeping my gaze on the ground.

Thankfully, Dante doesn’t press, and we continue in silence. The only noises coming are from the birds and the leaves moving with the wind.

We reach the river, the air thick with damp earth and the crisp scent of running water. I kneel by the edge, brushing my fingers over the dewy leaves of wild herbs; the silence between us is broken only by the gentle rush of the current.

I walk to another bush and kneel, smelling each plant, my hands brushing its leaves. I missed doing this.

“You know about this stuff?”

Dante asks, nodding toward the plants.

I shrug, plucking a few sprigs between my fingers. “I was studying agricultural science before the plague. Only made it through my freshman year, but I took an extra class on plants and herbs.”

Dante lowers himself beside me, his presence warm, and I feel a shiver down my spine. “And your family?”

His voice is quieter now, like he already knows the answer will cost me something. He reaches for a few herbs, mimicking my movements.

I take a slow breath, the words thick in my throat. “We had a farm; it was the family business, and my two brothers and I were supposed to take over…”

I trail off, swallowed by the ache that never really fades.

Dante’s hand brushes mine, a touch to ground me, to give me support. “I’m sorry,”

he murmurs.

I force a small smile, nodding once before shifting the conversation. “So, the base—the lights, the water.”

I glance back at Knox, who lingers behind us, always watching. “How did you guys manage that?”

Dante’s lips twitch in something close to pride. “The base was built years before the plague. Solar panels and a generator connected to a battery storage. We even have wind turbines to boost power in the winter.”

Knox steps forward, his adding weight to the explanation. “The water’s pulled from a source behind the base, deep enough to stay fresh. It runs through a filtration system before hitting the main pipes.”

That’s smart; even though the base wasn’t designed for survival in a dead world, it sure as hell works now.

“The water heater’s shit, though,”

Dante chuckles.

I huff out a laugh. “I noticed.”

Knox studies me for a moment before asking, “You lived alone before you met Bryn?”

“Yes,”

I say, meeting his gaze. “Four years, give or take.”

Knox crosses his arms. “How old were you when the plague started?”

“Eighteen.”

My hands sink into the dirt, tugging at another handful of herbs. The feel of soil beneath my fingers has always calmed me. It makes me feel connected and grounded, even now.

Dante tilts his head. “You’re twenty-eight now?”

I nod, glancing between them. “And you guys?”

“I’m thirty-six, and Knox is thirty-eight,”

Dante answers easily.

My lips twitch. “Not old enough to be called daddy.”

Dante’s laugh is immediate, rich, and unrestrained as he pushes off the ground; his full-size body shakes with amusement. “Fucking hell, .”

He shakes his head, still grinning.

I smirk; my gaze flicks to Knox. He doesn’t laugh, but there’s a half-smile ghosting his lips, and I feel proud to almost make him smile.

“Why did you change?”

His tone cuts through the moment.

“Change?”

I echo, keeping my focus on the plants, my pulse quickening.

“You hated our guts, and now you’re letting Dante lick your cunt, and you are drunkenly grinning at me like you’ve forgotten everything,”

Knox says, his eyes narrowing, his presence suffocating even from across the clearing.

I shrug, trying to appear casual, but my face is burning. “Well, it’s not like I can run away, right? Might as well have some fun… like Bryn.”

The words taste bitter; it’s half-true, but I push them out anyway.

Knox’s scoff is low and dangerous. “Liar.”

Before I can process his movement, he’s on me. His hand grips my arm, pulling me up and slamming me back against the rough tree. My breath hitches as his face hovers inches from mine, his icy blue eyes like a wolf eyeing his prey.

“Let’s try that again,”

he growls.

My body trembles under his hold, heat crawling up my neck.

“Why the sudden change?”

He presses.

Dante moves beside us, his demeanor far more relaxed but his presence no less commanding. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from my face, his fingers grazing my skin.

“You went from untouchable to a horny little doll,”

Dante murmurs, his tone teasing but laced with curiosity, and I swallow hard.

Knox’s knee shifts, pressing firmly between my thighs, pinning me completely. His hand moves from my waist to my neck; his fingers find the pulse points on either side, applying just enough pressure to make my head spin.

“I—”

My voice falters, weak from the heat building in me and the subtle lack of air from his grip on my neck.

“Don’t lie, pet.”

Knox’s tone is dark and deep, with a hint of fury, and his knee presses up again, and a soft, involuntary moan escapes my lips.

“You like that, don’t you?”

He whispers, his lips ghosting over my ear. “Feeling my knee pressing against your pussy?”

I bite my lip, shame and desire fighting for control within me.

“Yes,”

I whisper, the word barely audible.

Knox smirks like a predator, and his hand tightens slightly on my neck, while his other slides down between my breasts. My breath catches as his fingers unbutton my pants.

“Tell me to stop.”

He orders, and my eyes meet his. Pupils are dilated, his chest tensing, but I say nothing. He looks feral right now, and I clench my legs on him.

I close my eyes, my body starting to tremble. I want him to touch me, to make me come. His tattooed fingers push my jeans down, and I feel him moving over the fabric of my panties. My breath catches, and the things I’ve been reading all rush to my brain.

The name he keep calling me echoes in my mind.

“I’m not your sub.”

I let out, and he stops his hands from reaching the spot I want him to, and I curse myself for opening my damn mouth.

“What do you know about that?”

His face frowns, and Dante lets out a chuckle.

I shrug. “College, I had friends—” I lie.

“Bullshit, .”

Knox turns his face to Dante. “Did you tell her about this stuff?”

Dante raises his hands. “Not me.”

“.”

He growls my name, his body pressing more into mine, his hands gripping tighter on my neck. I can see Knox doesn’t believe it, and I see him getting more pissed off, so I decide it’s best to come clean.

“Fine,”

I let out, moving my body to try and get released from Knox’s hold. He loosens the grip around my neck just a bit, and I breathe in.

Great, now I have to tell them… Stupid !

“Talk .”

Knox’s voice drops an octave, and I don’t know if I want to fuck him or punch him.

“I found these magazines,”

I say, my eyes darting between them.

“Magazines?”

Dante repeats, frowning.

“Yes, some old BDSM magazines, twelve of them.”

I try to roll my head, but Knox tightens his grip.

“So that’s why you were so flushed every time we got in the room. You were reading porn,”

Dante let out a laugh.

“It’s not porn!”

I protest, my hand darting to Knox’s wrist, and I claw at him, but he doesn’t even flinch.

“Did you touch yourself because of them?”

Knox smirks, his hand moving again to my zipper, pulling it down completely.

“No,”

I whisper as my breathing increases.

“So that’s why you’re so horny now? You’re into what you’ve read, aren’t you, pet?”

Knox says with amusement and I want to roll my eyes but the moment his fingers brush over my panties, my body betrays me. My grip tightens on his arm, and a smirk plays on his lips as his thick fingers trail lower, moving in slow, deliberate strokes over the fabric. My breathing stutters, and my hands are ice-cold, a stark contrast to the heat between my thighs.

He presses his thumb against my clit.

A soft, helpless whimper escapes me, my lashes flutter shut, drowning in the sharp spike of pleasure.

“Eyes on me, pet.”

His command is firm, sinking deep into my bones, and I force my eyes open, but they feel heavy, weighed down with desire. His smirk deepens as he watches me struggle. His thumb circles again, pressing with just enough to send my hips bucking against him. He leans in, his breath warm on my lips, teasing me without ever making contact.

I tremble.

His fingers hook into the thin fabric of my panties, pushing them aside. The barest graze of his skin against mine has me gasping, anticipation stealing the air from my lungs.

Then, finally, he touches me.

His fingers stroke my clit, a slow, torturous motion that sends shivers racing down my spine; my head feels too heavy to hold up. My body pulses with need, and his hand dips lower, fingers teasing at my entrance, and my stomach tightens in anticipation.

Oh my God, this is really happening.

And then—without warning—he thrusts a finger inside me, rough. My body stretches to accommodate him, burning and aching in the best way.

“Knox!”

My body stiffens at the intrusion.

“Look at you, taking my fingers like you were made for this.”

He growls, his finger thrusting in and out.

Dante’s hand reaches between us, and he grabs my shirt, pulling it up over my breasts.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, doll,”

Dante says as Knox’s eyes travel to my exposed bra.

“Pull her bra off, Grit.”

Knox orders, and Dante moves his hand under my bra, pulling it over my breasts, and I feel the cold air brushing against my hard nipples.

Knox leans back, giving Dante space to lean into me, putting one of my peaks in his mouth, and sucking on it. My body shivers; my eyes roll to the back of my head.

“Oh God.”

I whimper. They feel so good.

Knox inserts another finger inside me.

“You are clenching on my fingers like a fucking vice grip.”

He moves his fingers faster before taking them out, and I sag on his body, my breathing so rapid my eyes can’t focus. I feel my pussy burning; my skin is on fire.

Knox brings his fingers up, smearing my arousal over my nipples before lowering his hand again and plunging them back inside me—deep and endless. My hips jerk, my body strung so tight I can barely breathe.

“Fuck, Reaper.”

Dante’s groans with a smirk, his gaze locked on my breasts before flicking up to meet mine. His eyes darken. “This is ours now, doll, every fucking inch of you.”

He leans in, his mouth sucking onto my nipple, tongue flicking over the sensitive peak, licking away the heat Knox left behind.

Knox moves to the other, his tongue darting out, and he hums in approval. “Fuck, you taste heavenly.”

My body stiffens, my breath coming in short, uneven gasps, my vision swims, pleasure and pressure building to an unbearable peak. Then Knox’s hand presses against my throat, and for a moment, it feels like I might pass out—like I might shatter completely beneath them.

The world narrows to nothing but their hands, their mouths, the way they take me apart piece by piece. I’m burning up, caught between bliss and the intoxicating edge of losing control.

“Come for us my little slut.”

He thrusts his two fingers in and out while his thumb circles on my clit, pressing on it at every turn. My back arches off the tree. I feel my thighs shaking, and I know that if Knox wasn’t pinning me down, I would be on the floor melting!

My eyes start to close. The pleasure is overwhelming.

Dante bites down on my nipple, making me gasp and open my eyes wide. “Don’t you fucking dare to look away. I want to see those pretty eyes when you fall apart for us,”

he growls, rough with hunger.

A sharp pulse of electricity shoots straight between my legs, heat pooling and dripping as Knox keeps his thrusts powerful, controlled, and merciless.

“That’s it,”

Knox coos, dark and taunting. “Take my fingers like the good fucking slut you are.”

His words make my breathing hitch, my back arching off the tree. God, I’m so close to coming; my body hurts and burns. I feel every inch of my skin forming little goosebumps as Dante sucks harder, Knox plunging harder, faster.

They are consuming me. They are everywhere. My senses are sensitive, and I can’t control any part of my body.

“That’s it; you are being such a good girl,”

Dante whispers before sucking my nipple again, biting around it, and leaving small marks of his teeth on my soft skin.

I can’t take it anymore. I let out a scream as my body jumps from the tree, Knox forcing me to stay in my spot as my orgasm rips through me. I can’t stop the convulsing that Knox is driving out of me with his thick fingers.

Closing my eyes, I can still see spots of light dancing. I can’t breathe with how hard Knox is clawing on my neck; my pussy clenches and pulses around his finger, and I feel the orgasm lingering way past what I usually have.

I feel my body collapsing.

“Good girl,”

Knox whispers in my ear as I feel a pair of hands pulling my sweater and bra down but can’t open my eyes, they are so heavy.

“Breathe, ,”

Dante whispers, but I can’t.

I feel my feet coming off the ground. Knox is picking me up. “I got you, pet.”

His says softly, and I feel my body cuddling on his strong chest, a chuckle making his muscles move.

“You did good, doll.”

Dante’s sounds farther away, and I let my brain shut down in Knox’s arms.

They are right; I am turning into a horny doll…